


I Believe in You

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, Other, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: It is the night before the body swap and the trials, and Crowley and Aziraphale come to the painful realization that they may never see each other again. Remembering that this might be the last night they spend together, they try to make the most of their time on their potential last night on Earth, and with each other. Angst, hurt/comfort, romance. One-Shot.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 67





	I Believe in You

**Disclaimer:** Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn’t still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.

……….

I Believe in You

……….

Crowley was very skeptical of the final prophecy in Agnes Nutter’s book, but he was even more skeptical of Aziraphale’s interpretation of it. He trusted the angel immensely, more than he trusted anyone and anything else, even the Bentley, but he just didn’t think that the plan made any sense.

Really, who would come up with the crazy idea to switch bodies in order to fool Heaven and Hell? While Crowley had a lot of faith in Gabriel’s stupidity, he really didn’t think that the act would fool Beelzebub. He was sure that the demon would see right through Aziraphale’s charade; and even if he didn’t, Crowley was equally sure that Beelzebub would be very willing to dish out a different punishment when the holy water didn’t work, and that would probably be something that Aziraphale couldn’t survive.

Crowley was being plagued with these thoughts all night while Aziraphale was laying out the plan for the next day. The angel was so sure that he had figured out the prophecy, and that they were going to survive their trials, that Crowley didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had doubts. He didn’t want to explain his worries, in fear that Aziraphale would start worrying too.

So, Crowley sat on the sofa in the back room of the bookshop, sipping on wine (even when he really wanted to drain several bottles) and listening to Aziraphale plan out every last second of the time they were going to spend looking like each other. He swallowed his feelings with every sip of wine, refusing to let even the slightest hint of worry show on his face. He was determined to fool Aziraphale into thinking everything was alright.

So, of course, Aziraphale saw right through him.

“Crowley, dear, are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, pouring himself another glass of wine.

Crowley quickly snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of his name. “M’fine, angel. Why?”

“I’ve asked you the same question three times, and you haven’t answered.” Aziraphale stood from his chair and moved to the sofa, sitting down next to Crowley at a respectable distance. “What’s on your mind?”

“S’nothing, Aziraphale. I’m just thinking. What was the question?” Crowley answered, probably a little too quickly.

“I don’t believe that for a second, dear, but I won’t pry. I just asked what you think your trial will be like in Hell. Or, rather, my trial.”

Crowley looked down at his glass, swirling the wine inside and contemplating his answer. He wasn’t sure if he should say the truth, that he was terrified, or make up a lie to satisfy the angel. He didn’t know if he should just let Aziraphale be confident in his interpretation of the prophecy and move on with the night. If he lied, he could make the most of spending the night with his best friend, in case it was their last. But, in the end, Crowley would never lie to Aziraphale (expect about being in love with him), even to spare the angel some worry. So, he opted to tell the truth. “You want my honest answer, angel?” he asked quietly.

Aziraphale sat back into the sofa, his eyebrows knitted together. “Of course, Crowley.” He answered.

Crowley sighed and set his glass on the table. “I’m worried, Aziraphale. I’m worried that, when the holy water doesn’t kill you, Beelzebub will find another way to finish you off, something that _will_ destroy you. I’m terrified that you won’t survive tomorrow.” Crowley tiredly ran a hand across his face. “I’ve been worried ever since you deciphered that prophecy. I trust you, of course, but I don’t trust Nutter, and I can’t even begin to explain to you how worried I am that I will never see you again.” Crowley sat back heavily.

Aziraphale sat forward and turned toward the demon. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked, without any accusation in his voice.

“I didn’t want to worry you, or make you think that I didn’t trust you. I didn’t want to make you doubt your interpretation of the prophecy, because I fear that we will both lose our nerves if you do. And this might be our only shot of surviving tomorrow.” Crowley scrubbed at his face and frantically ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up.

“Crowley, dear, I’m worried too. Of course I’m worried, you’re my best friend, and you may not live to see tomorrow’s sunset. To be honest, you’re my only friend, and the only person in the world that I truly love. I’m terrified that I interpreted the prophecy wrong, and that one or both of us will not survive. I’ve hardly been able to eat today because I am so scared that you will die tomorrow.” Aziraphale paused, moving closer to Crowley and taking his long, thin hand into his own. “I don’t need you to be strong for me, dear. Let us worry together.” Aziraphale smiled a sad smile at the demon.

Crowley groaned loudly, smacking his forehead into his free hand. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I was scared that you didn’t believe in yourself, and that it was going to make me lose my nerve for tomorrow.” Crowley said, frowning.

“I’m not saying I don’t believe in myself, Crowley.” Aziraphale reached over and grabbed Crowley’s chin, tilting his face so they were making eye contact. “I believe that my interpretation of the prophecy is correct. That doesn’t mean that I’m not scared of losing you. Even if I think everything will work out tomorrow, there is always a chance that it won’t. And that scares me more than anything else. It terrifies me to think that I may never see you again.”

Crowley scrubbed a hand down his face again, unsure what to say. He had many things that he wanted to say, mostly about how much he loves Aziraphale, but he wasn’t sure exactly which words to use in this particular situation. He decided to stick close to the truth. “I… I think that’s my real worry too, Aziraphale. I’m not scared of dying tomorrow, I’m scared that you will die, and I won’t.” Crowley swallowed thickly, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand that was still holding his own. “I can’t live without you, angel.”

At this, Aziraphale moved even closer to Crowley, so close that their legs touched. He brought his free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Crowley’s, up to the demon’s face, gently brushing a strand of bright red hair off his forehead, before softly cupping his cheek. “I have the same fear, dearest. I have known you for as long as I have been on Earth, and I cannot imagine a life here without you. I can’t even imagine a life in Heaven without you. I need you in my life, more than I need anything else.” Aziraphale gently stroked a thumb across Crowley’s cheekbone.

Crowley slowly reached up and placed his hand over the one on his cheek. “I’m so scared, Aziraphale.” He choked out, his voice breaking. Aziraphale used the hand that was already on Crowley’s face to ease the sunglasses away from his eyes, giving him a clearer view of the storm of emotions swirling in the demon’s yellow irises. He placed his hand back on Crowley’s cheek.

“Believe it or not, dear, I’m really not good with feelings. It may seem like I am, because of the way I am with just about everything, but I never allow myself to stop and consider how you feel, or even how I feel. Comforting you is not my area of expertise, but… I want to try. Do you trust me?” Aziraphale asked quietly.

“More than anything, angel.” Crowley whispered.

“Come with me.” Aziraphale stood from the sofa, refusing to let go of the hand that was encased in his own. Crowley stood too, letting Aziraphale steer him toward the staircase that led to the small flat that the angel kept above the bookshop. He let his mind wander as they walked, wondering what on Earth Aziraphale could have in store for the two of them. He would definitely be up for abhorrent amounts of whiskey, or maybe some marijuana, or even a long bath, where he could curl up in his snake form and let the warm water wash away all his worries.

What he didn’t expect was for Aziraphale to lead him straight to his hardly used bedroom. Aziraphale quickly snapped his fingers to clear away the thick layer of dust that covered everything in the room, and then moved aside so Crowley could enter ahead of him.

“Angel… I’m very confused.” Crowley muttered, not moving.

“It’s not what you think, Crowley. I… I want to hold you, just this once, in case we do not survive tomorrow. I want to comfort us both. We deserve to indulge in a little of the closeness that we have been denying ourselves for six thousand years. Unless you don’t want to?” Aziraphale answered, wringing his hands and looking down at the floor.

“Angel, I say this with the utmost sincerity: you could not possibly offer me anything else that would make me fell better than that would. You cannot begin to understand how long I have wanted to be close to you.” Crowley stepped closer to Aziraphale, running a finger down the angel’s cheek. “You know me so well, Aziraphale.” He muttered.

“I like to think so.” Aziraphale replied. He pulled back from Crowley, pulling him gently forward into the room and pulling back the covers of his bed. Silk sheets, just how Crowley likes it. “I know that could be a bit awkward dear, especially since a bed can be such an intimate place… I really hope that you are not uncomfortable.” Aziraphale said sheepishly.

“Aziraphale, I have known you for six thousand years. There is not a single soul, on Earth or anywhere else, that I am more comfortable with.” Crowley tugged Aziraphale toward him and, in a moment of bravery, gently kissed the angel’s temple. “I will gladly lay here and spend the night with you.” Crowley snapped his fingers and changed his clothes from his usual skinny jeans and jacket to black silk pajamas, sliding under the covers and leaving plenty of room for Aziraphale.

Refusing to look at the new, and rather striking, occupant of his bed, Aziraphale snapped his fingers and changed into tartan flannel pajamas. He slid under the covers next to Crowley, keeping a respectable distance between them.

“Come on, Aziraphale. I didn’t come up here to lay in silence with a foot in between us. You’re everything to me, and I need to make sure that you are okay, in case you aren’t tomorrow.” Crowley scooted closer to Aziraphale and took the angel’s hand into his own, rolling onto his side so he could face his best friend.

Aziraphale quietly sank down farther into the bed and turned so he was face-to-face with Crowley. He gently wrapped his arms around the demon and pulled him into his chest. “I’m alright, dear. And we will both be alright tomorrow. We have to have faith.”

  
“I have always had faith in you, Aziraphale, even when I didn’t have faith in myself. I trust your plan, because I trust you more than anyone, or anything, else in the entire universe. I believe in you, angel.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and pulled him even closer.

“I believe in you too, Crowley. I… I love you. You are the only person in the universe that I love. I cannot and will not lose you. Not tomorrow, not ever. Promise me, Crowley.” Aziraphale whispered, a tear dripping from his eye onto Crowley’s hair. “I may trust my interpretation of the prophecy, but I still need you to promise me that you will do everything you can to survive tomorrow, because I cannot live without you.” Aziraphale cried.

Crowley unburied his face from Aziraphale’s chest, pulling back a bit so he could look the angel in the eye. “Aziraphale, I promise you that I will do everything I can to make sure I survive tomorrow. I love you too, I always have. I swear that I will come back to you tomorrow, as long as you promise me that you will do the same.”

Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed Crowley’s forehead, letting the kiss linger for a moment before pulling back. “I promise, my love.”

Crowley could not help but grin widely at the new nickname. He leaned forward and kissed Aziraphale, with a passion that he never thought he was capable of. When he pulled away, Aziraphale was the one left grinning.

Crowley gently pressed his face back into Aziraphale’s chest, letting the angel stroke his hair as he drifted off.

Now, he was sure that everything was going to be alright.


End file.
